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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132277">Travel Banter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetiKitty/pseuds/PetiKitty'>PetiKitty</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Octopath Traveler (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:46:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132277</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetiKitty/pseuds/PetiKitty</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The dialogue in the game is written as if each character is travelling alone which really nagged at me, so I'm filling in the blanks. Everything will be written assuming the reader has played the game already.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Olberic Chapter 1 (Ft Primrose)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Each step Primrose took through the warm sand was a refreshing tickle between her toes. She had always loved the sensation and right now, it was her only solace. The battered dancer had a feeling that she would one day kill Helgenish and she also knew it wouldn't bring her as much joy as an observer would suspect, all things considered.</p><p>What even she would have never imagined, despite all her pessimism, was that it would be the second worst day of her life.</p><p>The echo of Yusufa's dying words were grinding against Primrose's will to hold back her tears but as the grains of sand in her shoes slowly morphed into the pebbles of a mountain path, she knew there was no time for mourning. Even after losing her best friend, there was no room in her quest for emotions.</p><p>With her last bit of food given away to a young man named Kit, a stopover in Cobblestone – a town so small she almost forgot it existed. Primrose had a feeling it was a town of well meaning people as she had never met anyone from that lived there.</p><p>The climb was long enough to give her too much time to think which wasn't enjoyable on a good day, but eventually she found her way to a meal and a bath and figured those would be the highlights of the charming detour.</p><p>Then Primrose made the mistake of asking a man whose (obviously fake) name was Berg if he knew where to find a map.</p><hr/><p>“I greatly appreciate any assistance in rescuing the lad.” The stone face and stoic tone of Olberic didn't relay gratitude or any emotion at all for that matter, but Primrose was truly adept at three things: Fighting, dancing and peering into the souls of men; she could all too clearly see the hulking man's turmoil and desperation. “But pray tell, fair lady. What is your motivation for helping?”</p><p>Primrose wanted to mock the foolish question but it was clear her new partner had become so jaded in life that the desire to see a helpless child to safety wasn't enough of an incentive for anyone but him. The debauchery and heat of the desert may have steeled her resolve even further, but the last remaining daughter of House Azelhart had not grown so cold that she would turn down such a noble pursuit.</p><p>After all, justice for a child and their family was her whole reason for being.</p><p>Coldly, Primrose answered, “you seem like a formidable man – the kind I like indebted to me.” If Olberic was hiding his true self, the young woman felt there was no need to put all her cards on the table either.</p><p>With eyes shut, Olberic grunted and nodded his approval. “Then we make for the mountain pass.” The swordsman eyed Primrose up and down, albeit not in the same context she was used to. “Might you want to change into something more... Battle appropriate? I'm sure the town's smith could-”</p><p>“I'm fine like this.” The dancer waved him off and broke into a determined stride to the town's northern exit. As quickly as she could walk, Olberic's size allowed him to easily pass her and the warrior's body seemed to demand Primrose remain behind it.</p><p>Through the young woman's eyes, it was clear as day. Olberic didn't want to shield her out of a lustful pursuit masquerading as kindness. It wasn't even a romantic or gentlemanly compulsion. This was simply the nature of a kindhearted man and after losing Yusufa, this was exactly the kind of person she needed in her life, even if just for a day.</p><hr/><p>Mist fell upon them in random pockets, but it did little to slow the pair down but cursing her own stubbornness, Primrose shivered in the brisk mountain air – their hurried pace was doing just enough to keep her teeth from chattering, but the trade off came with the rocks sucked into her sandals with each forceful step.</p><p>No matter what speed she took, Olberic managed to stay perfectly in sync, always remaining three feet in front of her. With each curve and incline, the cold became increasingly bitter and the dancer's exhausted muscles voiced their demands for a rest with increasing intensity. Those were nothing against her stubbornness and pride however.</p><p>After the two hadn't exchanged words for nearly half an hour Primrose decided it was time to probe the man leading her.</p><p>“Before we met, someone in town mentioned you,” she said playfully to which Olberic had no reaction. “they spoke of you as a wandering sellsword that had grown tired of the job.”</p><p>“Do you take exception to that line of work?” The warrior's calm was unbending.</p><p>“We do what we must,” Primrose responded with a bit more weight to her inflection. “But you're not just some run of the mill mercenary.” Olberic stopped abruptly enough that she nearly walked into his broad frame before he turned around, his eyes filled with suspicion.</p><p>Primrose continued, “I entertained every kind of man you can think of.” The young woman spoke with a mix of pride and regret. “I can judge character faster than you can swing that blade of yours and you've got all the makings of a knight in shining armour.”</p><p>Olberic paused to ponder the accusation. “A bold conclusion. What has lead you to this fantasy?”</p><p>“For one thing, you're far too trusting,” she stated as if it were a given. “A sellsword knows better than to turn his back on a silent stranger for this long.” Primrose grinned mischievously as she quickly drew her knife.</p><p>“Especially one that's leading you into a trap!”</p><p>Her arm lunged up with the same power as her voice but Olberic, despite his apparent abilities, did nothing to avoid the dagger that stopped short of his neck.</p><p>Primrose took his indifference as disrespect; her eyes narrowed and her tongue went from silver to venomous and anger and exhaustion laboured her breath. “Are you really so naive to think a woman like me doesn't have it in her to take a life?” Her eyes purposefully darted back and forth from Olberic's own gaze to the small, remaining dark red remnants of Helgenish on her trusted weapon.</p><p>The stoic warrior finally gave up the tiniest hint of something resembling what might be a smile. “You say you can tell a persons true nature through your experience as an entertainer, but that's nothing compared what I've learned by sending hundreds of men to their maker.”</p><p>“You say you see me as a knight – a title reserved for those defined by virtue, courage and purpose.” Olberic calmly reached up and pushed the dagger away from his jugular. “But I already know enough about you to say I have no doubt that if anyone's true nature is that of a knight, it's yours.”</p><p>Primrose glowed at the most flattering complement anyone had awarded her in a long time.</p><hr/><p>Primrose lurked in the shadows of the brigands' hideout while Olberic made his presence known to their enemy. Caves weren't really her scene. She had grown up around the beauty of gardens and art and had spent the past few years of her life under the warm sun. A damp, cold and dark cave devoid of sounds save for the crying of a scared boy and the brutish snorts of men reminded her too much of the reality of life.</p><p>The half dozen goons may have been placeholders but a man that was clearly their leader stood among them. Primrose had seen enough tavern brawls to know that the head of a pack of dogs was always at least as strong as half their lackeys put together. If they were any less substantial than that, there would likely be mutiny after mutiny until only one was left standing.</p><p>Gaston was his name. The dancer didn't need to see his size or the furs that draped over him to figure out his status. The only indicator Primrose needed was that Gaston had almost landed a blow on Olberic and she decided it was time to reveal herself and gain the edge they needed.</p><p>It was showtime.</p><p>Emerging from the void, Primrose purred, “boys, please, there's no need for all this.” The dancer's trained voice was more seductive than the finest perfumes and it easily got everyone's attention. Thankfully Primrose's companion had the wits to play along as she walked through his scuffle to face the weak minded goons.</p><p>All six pairs of eyes were fixated on the figure that had brought more than one aristocrat into poverty, but it was her thin and beautiful smile that was the real bait; through it she hummed just quietly enough so Gaston would keep his focus on Olberic, “the mayor of the town sent me to make a trade. Wouldn't we all be happier if you kept me instead of the boy.”</p><p>Most of them chuckled arrogantly. It was always the same laugh, the same condescending tone that she had heard so many times – as though the men ogling her were doing her a favour by treating her slightly better than than a dead rabbit they decided wasn't worth eating. It had always been the worst part of the job.</p><p>The goon closest to her growled, “whore's worth less than a boy.” His smugness was quieter than she had expected. They were trying not to alert their boss either, likely concocting their own plan. “Ya' better have some leafs tucked away somewhere, sweetheart.”</p><p>Primrose inched closer – each step with purpose and angelic grace as she continued her act. “Let me prove my worth, handsome.” This offer was enough to let her get close enough for the grunt to touch her, which of course, he did. They always do. It was a shame for him that he went to lift the temptress' top instead of her arm.</p><p>If he had, he might not have had his throat sliced open quite so easily.</p><p>As the splatter hit Primrose and the man and all his misplaced confidence toppled, dying before he had a chance to have the life choked out of him by his own blood, she wondered if sweet little Philip had seen it all unfold or if he were distracted by the sights and sounds of clashing steel behind her.</p><p>Another toad began to yell, “oy, you vile bi-”</p><p>Even through his scuffle, Gaston must have figured out what was going on behind him – a man having his neck slashed made a very distinct sound that echoed all around them; he cut off his useless employ. “Would you dimwitted buffoons do yer jobs!? I don' care who ya' pick, just start cutting someone open!”</p><p>Primrose took a step back to give herself distance and called out, “Berg, you just worry about having fun with your little friend. I'll handle the weaklings.”</p><p>She appreciated her comrade not questioning her plan or her abilities, but the five remaining foot soldiers didn't have the same faith in her. They took out their swords and, unsurprisingly, it was the shortest of the men that said, “one sucker punch and you think yer some kinda' warrior do ya?”</p><p>The bloodied young woman had no intention of acknowledging their continued arrogance – instead focusing on her arcane teachings, honed throughout her life, enriched and corrupted by her troubled soul, channeled through her always steady hands.</p><p>“Night ode, bring your shade!”</p><p>Her voice shook the cavern as a dark magic filled the air in front of her; Each man felt the sensation of suffocation, blackness covered their eyes and horrifying screams crept into their minds, drowning out all reason. They weren't dead, but for a few seconds (that couldn't be discerned between an entire day by their twisted thoughts), they will wish they had been.</p><p>As their senses returned, Primrose turned her head to see the young boy had been sent to hide his eyes. Then, when the glares of her enemies had refocused on her, she crushed the neck of the man she had already put down for good. With a psychopathic calm, she said “it was a quicker death than men like you deserve, but at least he's quiet.”</p><p>Eyeing each man furiously, she gestured to the corpse beneath her sandal. “Anyone else foolish enough to join h-”</p><p>She didn't have the opportunity to finish her threat before Gaston tumbled down next to her – wounded but very much alive with an air of anger and admiration. The dancer wasn't adverse to more bloodshed if needed, but she knew when a brawl was over and had no desire to kill for the sake of killing.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Tressa Chapter 1 (Ft Primrose and Olberic) Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sendoffs are living summaries of someone's biography, Primrose thought to herself – or maybe just one chapter depending on how long the book is. Either way, it showcases the impact of your presence and the dancer was stuck comparing Olberic's to her own sendoff from Sunshade.</p>
<p>Comparing an entire town showing up with cheers, tears and love to a ponce demanding fellatio, his gang of thugs, a dead slave and a whole lot of other bloody corpses when all was said and done was haunting.</p>
<p>Sadly, she knew more people would want to read the Siren of Sunshade than the Hero <em>or maybe Hunk, depending on the target audience</em> of the Highlands. They would make the cover art wholesome like a painting of her in a modest dress releasing a dove over the ocean – just to give readers some false appearance of modesty. Primrose felt that Olberic's book would be a lot more interesting. The tales of heroes were always more captivating; she didn't know what her tale was, but it certainly was not that of a hero.</p>
<p>Of course, this was all speculation as Stonegard had yet to produce a biography.</p>
<p>Olberic wasn't thinking of such things as he wasn't much of a reader. He was no fool, but enjoying a book never got things done and he was a doer, so the warrior was much more interested in contemplating the real world as they took the stone steps out of Cobblestone.</p>
<p>“We should discuss what happened in the cave.” The shower of affection from all his friends obviously didn't shake his resolve.</p>
<p>Primrose correctly assumed that her companion had wanted to have this conversation right away but didn't feel it was appropriate around sweet little Philip. She calmly referred to the cold regard for humanity that she displayed in their battle, “Maybe you're thinking I'm not quite a knight after all.”</p>
<p>“I'll admit, your methods in combat were....impolite.”</p>
<p>Such a timid response had Primrose wondering if this was finally an instance of noble chauvinism, unaware that nothing the warrior had ever done or will ever do was a result of anything but honour, respect or awkwardness.</p>
<p>While scraping the blood from her dagger as casually and diligently as one would with parsley in their teeth, Primrose responded, “I was outnumbered.” There was little doubt in her mind that she could have handled the fight with her normal grace, but a little goes a long way. “Perhaps I didn't need to desecrate a corpse and torture a few souls, but my living is too important to take risks.”</p>
<p>Apt phrasing from someone who had spent eight years as a slave rather than risk finding an alternative. Living, after all, was far too important. Primrose felt she had become worthless, but nothing was worth as much as her life.</p>
<p>“I suppose the ends can sometimes justify the means.”</p>
<p>Apt phrasing from someone who had slaughtered a <em>lot </em>of people.</p>
<p>“Regardless, your skills in battle are undeniable.” There was no doubt in Olberic's mind that what he was considering asking was a bad idea but he knew he was right about the ends. “You and I are both armies of one, Primrose but my life has shown me that a one man army can still lose to a 1000 man army.”</p>
<p>“If this is a marriage proposal, I'm afraid I'm not interested.” Primrose said this knowing any man in the world would easily pick up on the sarcasm, but it occurred to her, too late, that Olberic wasn't any man and she didn't need to see his red grimace to know it.</p>
<p>As flexible as the dancer was, she had never known the ability to stick in her foot in her mouth until now.</p>
<p>“Ignore the humour, Olberic. It would be my pleasure to travel with you.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>The pair followed a sign leading them to a detour. Olberic questioned the merit of stopping in Rippletide, but Primrose insisted she needed a bath, citing that she needed to wash off the stink of battle. The young woman decided not to mention she also needed to wash off the stink of general stink just as Olberic chose not to mention that he was aware of it.</p>
<p>Primrose also reluctantly conceded that she, 'needed new clothes,' explaining that she 'didn't want to freeze, nor did she want people to get the wrong idea of their relationship. Olberic didn't question this despite not knowing what the wrong idea was. He wasn't even entirely sure what the right idea was.</p>
<p>One thing he did know, as Primrose excused herself to run her errands, was that he finally had a moment to stop and enjoy himself which, as far as he could remember, had never happened before. The town of Rippletide did little for him. As small as it was, it had a big city energy to it. Outdoor shops lined the streets which meant enthusiastic peddlers and excited shoppers.</p>
<p>It was all quite loud. Olberic never cared for loud, but as he squeezed his way through the main street, the warrior arrived at the docks. The ocean appealed to him more than any luxury or vice. He had loved swimming as a boy, but it was more than that. Endless possibilities, ships big and small that controlled the world, all held together by powerful waves and highlighted by an irresistible scent.</p>
<p>The combination of raw power and subtle beauty reminded him of glorious Hornburg. For as long as time permitted, Olberic stood ( men like him weren't allowed to sit while they enjoyed things) and he stared out into the water until his serenity lost out to the chaos and sadness of more pressing matters.</p>
<p>It was then he realized he also likely stank of stink.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Olberic and Primrose found each other fresh from the bathhouse, the former staring in bewilderment. Primrose stared back but at least she remembered how to blink.</p>
<p>He finally asked cautiously, “that's what you've decided to wear?” The warrior couldn't make sense of long blue dress with fingerless black gloves. It was by no means skin tight, but there was distinctly not enough room to wear armour underneath it.</p>
<p>Primrose objected to the objection. She was out to avenger her father, not find a new one. “Is there a problem?”</p>
<p>“Your other clothes at least provided mobility.” It was the most polite way anyone had told her she dressed too scandalously. “How could anyone fight in this attire?”</p>
<p>“Slits,” Primrose responded excitedly as she showed off the cut fabric on her legs. “I had it customized. We thought of everything.”</p>
<p>“Did you account for someone plunging a sword through you?”</p>
<p>Primrose feigned a ponder before stating the obvious. “I just won't let that happen,” which was an unknowing lie.</p>
<p>“And the...” Prolonged silence followed. “The hat?” He said gesturing toward the tiara holding up tiny angel feathers above both ears.</p>
<p>“It came free with the dress.”</p>
<p>“A valid enough reason to have it, but why are you wearing it?” Olberic couldn't think of any good reason to wear something so impractical and gaudy. An accessory that would only serve to grab people's attention but he assumed Primrose had an excuse he could accept.</p>
<p>She did not.</p>
<p>“I think it's pretty,” the dancer spoke with enough confidence that the warrior assumed she was silently adding, 'which I know isn't important but they were out of hats that could be used for defence or possibly to conceal weapons' as the completely shallow response made no sense to him.</p>
<p>Olberic didn't have time to avert his eyes with discomfort before a big city kind of commotion erupted on the other end of the small town and both adventurers shrugged in agreement to investigate.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Broken boxes, glass and unconscious men were strewn about with their bloodied faces towards the sky. The scene near the docks had all the makings of a tavern brawl - only lacking in the distinct smell of ale. There were no loud growling either, though one girl was shouting with the tactlessness and fervour of ten drunkards.</p>
<p>“No good selfish cowardly pirates!” The girl was throwing a tantrum like a drunkard too, stomping on broken boxes, kicking their ashes. “Threatening me is one thing!” She continued yelling at no one. “But stealing from innocent people!? I'm going to give them a peace of my mind!”</p>
<p>Primrose turned to Olberic with a tired expression. “Do you suppose every town I stop in is going to have criminals threatening children?”</p>
<p>“It's an unpleasant world,” he responded, proud of his philosophical side. “Perhaps we should look into this further.” Primrose using dark magic may have been impolite but leaving a child in danger was downright rude and they both knew it.</p>
<p>“Young one.” The angry girl froze in place. Primrose didn't need evidence to know that Olberic's voice had that effect on people. “Tell us what happened here.”</p>
<p>“What happened!?” The young girl stomped towards the travelling pair. She was clearly the type that hated people seeing her cry, but she was so furious that she wasn't keeping it in check. “I'll tell you what happened!”</p>
<p>Olberic would have preferred an explanation that was no more than a sentence; Primrose would have settled for two or three. Instead, the group stood in the street for twenty minutes, listening to a grand tale of marauders, violence and fear; Olberic had to admit to himself that it would almost make for a book worth reading.</p>
<p>“I suspect,” Olberic finally said as the girl who hadn't introduced herself in all that time seemed to run out of breath. “That there is some kind of local militia. My comrade and I would lend ourselves to your aid.”</p>
<p>The girl chuckled. “Militia? I'm the only one in this town that even knows how to fight.” When Primrose failed to hide a snort, the young girl drew a spear from her back and, with a powerful and adorable growl, jabbed it in her direction.</p>
<p>“Let's all calm ourselves,” Olberic said calmly as he even more calmly pushed the spear away. “What's your name, lass?”</p>
<p>“Tressa, the greatest stock girl and merchant this town has ever known!”</p>
<p>Olberic didn't usually care for people that spoke with so many exclamation marks in their dialogue, but he appreciated the girl's spirit. “Very well, Tressa. With no allies, how were you planning on winning a fight with a gang of pirates?”</p>
<p>Tressa snickered as she pointed to the tavern. “They're filling up a cask with wine right now. After I add my special ingredient, I'll bring it to them as a peace offering.” The young merchant was so proud of her plan that she didn't notice Olberic's grunt of disapproval. “Then <em>bam!</em> Lights out for those dirty dogs.”</p>
<p>“Poison,” Olberic said scathingly, “is no way to win a fight. There is no honour.”</p>
<p>“Honour shmonour! You want to talk about real honour!?”</p>
<p>He always did.</p>
<p>“I swear on my honour as a merchant that I'm getting these people their stuff back and even I can't fight all those guys.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps we could-”</p>
<p>“Olberic,” Primrose cut the brooding warrior off with disapproval of her own. “It's a good plan. We don't know how many of these brutes there are. Even the two of us might not be able to handle it”</p>
<p>“Three of us!”<br/><br/>“More importantly, this is her town.” She flashed Tressa a 'I'm on your side so shut up' smile. “It's her choice to defend it as she sees fit.” Primrose knew Olberic's true nature could never disagree with that logic and with his trademark nod he said, “We should still accompany her on the journey.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>The plot was hatched. Olberic and Primrose waited just out of sight and they both agreed Tressa was at least a worthy thespian. She really made it sound like a plea for forgiveness than a murder plot. 'The innocent aura of youth,' they both thought.</p>
<p>Tressa told them it would take a bit of time for her special ingredient to take effect, so she decided to talk and since Olberic and Primrose knew she'd keep talking even if they stayed silent, the two joined her.</p>
<p>“I have to say, Tressa, I am impressed,” Primrose said earnestly. “Morals aside, this is a cleaver plan for such a young girl.</p>
<p>The merchant scowled. “How old do you think I am?”</p>
<p>Primrose stopped to consider all the variables of the small girl's frame and her childlike excitement. “Thirteen?” Sensing the angry heat coming from the Tressa, she corrected herself “Perhaps fourteen?” Olberic interjected before Tressa could respond.</p>
<p>“Nonsense. The girl is sharp enough that she's had ample time to hone her mind. She's clearly a year past your guess, if not two.”</p>
<p>“You two are the worst!” Even her whispers had exclamation marks.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Primrose took exception to being in a dark cave for the second time in as many days. She could still smell the musk from the last one. Olberic didn't care. Caves masked the smell of blood while echoing the sounds of victory and at the end of the day, a battlefield was a battlefield.</p>
<p>It didn't take long for them to come across the first body. Primrose knelt down to inspect the chubby corpse, but when she did, she let out a quiet groan, turned and whispered. “I have good news, Olberic. The poison didn't work. It just knocked him out. He's only asleep.”</p>
<p>“A well laid plan, Tressa.” Olberic's joy – or his version of joy at least – was evident. “But it seems it has not succeeded.”</p>
<p>“What are you talking about?” Tressa was loud and confused. “This is what sleepweed does. That's why they call it <em>sleep</em>weed.”</p>
<p>Suddenly exhausted, Primrose rose to her feet, looking down at the shorter girl. “This was your plan? To knock them out and take your stuff back?”</p>
<p>“Uhh, yeah. Did you think I was going to murder a bunch of people?”</p>
<p>Tressa was clearly in over her head, though that wasn't hard. The less naive two of the trio knew they were going to need to clean up this mess. “And what would you do once they woke up and realized what had happened?”</p>
<p>Tressa rolled her eyes which made Primrose seriously doubt the girl was any older than her guess of fourteen. “There'd be nothing left to do. These brutes will learn their lesson and leave my town alone!” A sound almost like snickering came from the entrance and since all the pirates were asleep, it was as if the cave itself was mocking Tressa.</p>
<p>“I think you need to go back home,” Primrose said sternly.</p>
<p>“But-”</p>
<p>Olberic slid himself next to his partner so he too could look down at the new kid. “It's good advice, little one. Men like these know no honour or humility. The only way they will leave you be is if they are behind bars or buried in the ground. As your town has no jail...”</p>
<p>“What you two don't seem to get is that anyone can be convinced by the right sales pitch.” The merchant's tenacity didn't waiver in the face of condescending words. “And no one makes a pitch like me!”</p>
<p>“Whether you two like it or not, Rippletide is my home and I'll defend it on my terms!” Her fragile form pushed through Olberic and Primrose easily as if she were an engine powered by pep. “You can either help me or get out of my way.”</p>
<p>Turning to Primrose, Olberic said, “You did say, if I recall, that the girl did have the right to defend her own town.”</p>
<p>Annoyed at everything around her, the dancer said, “Yes, but when I said that, it was only to tease you.” The stoic man said nothing to the jab. “Still, I suppose the words were true.”</p>
<p>Fraught with worry, and not showing it Olberic said, “the girl is too brave for her own good. Our priority is her safety.”<br/><br/>“I agree, but we may want to hurry. She started running as soon as you turned your back.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Tressa Chapter 1 (Ft Primrose and Olberic) Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stepping over several sleeping bodies, they were able to catch up to Tressa before anything had the chance to go sideways, but with each snoozing pirate they crossed, Olberic thought, 'what's going to happen if they wake up?' whereas Primrose thought, 'what's going to happen when they <em>do</em> wake up?' This moment defined the differences between them.</p>
<p>Tressa began collecting up piles of goods, further revealing her poor planning skills. Primrose whispered, “how was she going to carry all that?” The swordsman blinked a few times in agreement as the two surveilled all the treasure the merchant had set out to sneak back with – the situation made all the more depressing when it was clear most of it was barely worth stealing in the first place.</p>
<p>Pulling her knife out, Primrose nudged Olberic and gestured to the two men sleeping closest to the treasure. Pirates seemed like the greedy and paranoid type so they both concluded one of unconscious pair must be the one in charge though it was unclear if it was the short fat one or his lanky companion.</p>
<p>“We could just kill them now. It would save us the trouble later.” Primrose and Olberic both knew Tressa's plan had no chance of succeeding; a confrontation was inevitable and it would be, to put it delicately, decisive. The warrior grunted his objection and Primrose sighed, wondering how many times the noble man's morals would get in her way. “Can't blame a girl for trying.”</p>
<p>He could blame her, and strongly considered it but Tressa needed help carrying giant sacks of flower so Olberic focused on that instead. Between the three of them, bringing back at least half was feasible, but they quickly ran out of time to do that. A belch of wine and sleepy, 'whosshat' came from one of the horizontal bodies.</p>
<p>Olberic dropped what was unfortunately, in fact, a brown and fowl smelling sack of flour; Tressa pulled her brown feathered hat over her face. The toxin was supposed to last longer than this. The merchant was sure she could talk her way out of this but all she could think of was lodging a complaint with Leon over the defective product.</p>
<p>Her companions had other things in mind. Primrose decided that if they were going to fight this fight on Olberic's terms, they might as well get it over with as quickly as possible. The dancer crept over to the pirate that was coming to and pulled him up by the collar - shouting at him in a way that was unladylike to the point of spitting.</p>
<p>“Get your friend on his feet so we can to the part of the show where we kill you!”</p>
<p>It wasn't in her nature to be so boorish, but delicacy didn't work on drunkards. She figured their responsiveness to a screaming nag was a latent fear of their own mothers. Her plan worked and both boys were up, though not having a good time doing it.</p>
<p>Olberic's small voice crept up to her. “Perhaps we should leave and come back when these men are sober. Fighting them like this seems no different than slaughtering them in their sleep.”</p>
<p>Raising her dagger to grown man throat level, Primrose responded, “you must not have spent much time near the sea, Sir Olberic. There's no warrior more impotent than a sober pirate. If you want your honourable fight, now's your chance.”</p>
<p>“Ha!” The first man to his feet seemed delighted at the prospect while the other steadied himself. “Youshink you be fightin' with honour? We show ya' what we think o' figh... What we think of horner ....Mateys!”</p>
<p>The drunken holler turned what should have been an easy fight in to a situation as it summoned nearly every sleeping body they had walked over on their trip through the cave.</p>
<p>The second of the two most important men had finally found most of his feet and yelled out, “The strong wake while the sleep quake!....Hold...Hold on, thas not it. The strong....Make?”</p>
<p>His friend cut him off. “Ah just killem all!”</p>
<p>Primrose growled. She knew her purpose in life was too high a cause to die at the hands of doped up man-children. The gods simply wouldn't allow it, but they didn't care enough about her to keep her without wound and the idea of scars hindering her weaponized beauty was off-putting. To herself she muttered, “I should have just slit their throats where they laid,” before muttering slightly louder, “can you hold off the two while I deal with the rest?”</p>
<p>Olberic earned the right to be confident going into any battle, but he doubted Primrose's assessment that these drunkards were any kind of a threat. Were it not for his concern for Tressa, he would have had a hard time taking this seriously.</p>
<p>After nodding to Primrose, the warrior shouted out, “Tressa! Stay between us.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>The intoxicated pirates had acceded Olberic's expectations. They were sloppy but in such a dangerous way that it seemed to be by design and the pair played off each other well. The warrior knew he could at least keep them at bay until they weakened with sobriety but until Primrose finished her task, it was a tossup between him holding the line or gaining an edge.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, Primrose was having difficulties of her own. Dark magic prayed on its targets emotions but an arcanist trying to tap into the mind of the drunk and drugged was no easier than riding an angry, blind horse.</p>
<p>As a brawler, the agile young woman was too quick to get struck, but dancing around a sea of blades took too much focus to be able to go on the offensive. Both sides of the pincer were at a stalemate and both Primrose and Olberic knew that if it kept up, someone as reckless as Tressa would get too antsy. The only question was which side she would intervene in.</p>
<p>As it turned out, Tressa's grudge lay with the men that orchestrated the ransacking of her village.</p>
<p>Primrose heard a call of, “I've had it with you two!” behind her and was thankful. Olberic's knightly instincts would do much better keeping the girl safe, though the dancer suspected her partner didn't share her delight. As she continued to put on a show with her acrobatics, Primrose wanted more than anything to take a break and enjoy the spectacle happening behind her. Whatever Tressa was adding to the fight was drawing out an increasing flurry of angry grunts and insults from the two lead pirates.</p>
<p>It must have been worth watching as it distracted the goons just enough to give Primrose an opening. A slash across one of her opponent's face wasn't lethal, but it took his one remaining eye out of the equation. In a game of inches, she had gained a foot.</p>
<p>***<br/><br/></p>
<p>With the help of Tressa, Olberic was well on his way to gaining a full mile – much to his surprise. The young merchant's element of surprise was only the beginning of her worth; with ease, she used her spear to block the lanky pirate's swing of his sabre before taking advantage of her lengthy weapon to push him away.</p>
<p>Olberic glared at the shorter pirate. It wasn't a stare of anger or passion but the invitation to surrender. The idea seemed impossible moments ago but with Tressa in the fray, the fight was over, though his opponents had too much liquid courage to give up or to even realize their predicament.</p>
<p>The clash of steel between the two echoed through the caves no more than a dozen times before the warrior disarmed the chubby man. Now all that needed to be done is what needed to be done. The constellation of corpses was moments from taking shape before a quick set of footsteps and self-assured voice sounded behind Olberic.</p>
<p>“That's quite enough.”</p>
<p>***<br/><br/><br/></p>
<p>In a blur of blue and blonde, Primrose's opponents had been knocked flat. The only thing more stunning than his beauty was his precision. All the men she was fighting had been incapacitated but she could tell each of them had been dealt a non-lethal blow. The entire brawl had ceased and Primrose took exception to the idea that she needed help.</p>
<p>“Whoever you might be,” she said coldly. “We had things under control.”</p>
<p>“That you did.” The new arrival brushed past her. His cocky stride and shining curls were both charming and condescending in their swagger. Primrose turned to follow his path and everyone behind her was frozen in place. The two lead pirates stared in awe, eventually stammering out his name – Leon Bastrallel which seemed to mean a lot to everyone in the room but her.</p>
<p>“Too far under control for my liking.” He turned back to Primrose, his one visible blue eye every bit as strong as the rest of him. “Tressa told both of you she wanted no spilled blood and you joined her with the plan to defy her. This is her home, her rules.”</p>
<p>Leon shifted his eyes to Olberic. “And I would expect better from you.” Primrose noted they stood with the confidence of looking at a familiar face but eyed each other up and down with the suspicion of meeting someone new. The names of great warriors must have been passed on to each other.</p>
<p>“No fighting, no stealing. Everyone plays nice and any objections to this go through me.”</p>
<p>The pirates that weren't already on the ground dropped to their knees along with Tressa's spear, Olberic's sword and Primrose's dagger.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Primrose and Olberic sat around a dining table with Tressa's parents. The young merchant had invited them to dinner and that seemed a much better plan than tavern food. They had finished eating and Tressa excused herself for 'just a minute.' to take a peak at a book she had acquired from Leon.</p>
<p>That had been two hours ago. The rest of the dinner party ran out of small talk but Olberic was too polite to leave without bidding Tressa farewell and too awkward to knock on her door. Primrose was too loyal to leave her friend behind to shoulder the uncomfortable burden on his own.</p>
<p>“Finished!” Tressa finally emerged from her bedroom to meet the four pairs of impatient eyes. She stared back blankly before noticing that the proud daylight had been fully replaced by a starry night. “I guess I was in there longer than I thought.”</p>
<p>“Oh well. What's done is done,” she continued on, ignoring the malice behind each gaze. “I have something I need to say. Ma, pa, I'm going to travel alongside Olberic and Primrose on their journey.”</p>
<p>It was impossible to tell who in the room was most offended by the naive and blunt proposition. It would have been the kind of spirited debate that lasted until sunrise and only ended because all but one got tired of arguing. Primrose wasn't sure who it would be but she selfishly held firm that she would be the most inconvenienced by this proposition. The dancer was already having second thoughts about bringing Olberic's moral code with her, but at least he let her kill people.</p>
<p>Tressa's eager eyes seemed to be directing the request toward the two adventurers rather than her parents which Primrose found the most objectionable. A child so blatantly disregarding her parents would not have been allowed in the Azelhart household. Primrose figured this at least meant the right of refusal lay with her and Olberic. The young woman felt a man as stoic as the hardened warrior was designed to say no to children so the dancer silently pleaded with her partner to do his duty.</p>
<p>He sighed quietly. “That decision lies with your parents, Tressa.”</p>
<p><em>How diplomatic</em>, Primrose thought to herself angrily. <em>How can a man dedicated to honing power give it up so willingly?</em></p>
<p>Pouting, Tressa argued with ma and pa. Both Primrose and Olberic tuned it out, mentally mapping their next moves, but like a giant sign flashing with neon magic, they both heard clear as day, “you have my blessing.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Tressa's family may have had extra seats for dinner, but thankfully they had no extra beds – though that did not stop Tressa from offering up the corner with some pillows. Primrose and Olberic never agreed to take Tressa along with them, but they never explicitly turned her down either and there was no doubt the girl would take their silence as acceptance.</p>
<p>So Primrose waited outside the inn for the girl to show up, probably insisting they forgo sleep and leave immediately. The silver lining to this scene was that the dancer greatly favoured Rippletide over Sunshade. The stars were always mostly obscured by the mountains in her former home, but out here, constellations shimmered with grand beauty.</p>
<p>More importantly, in Rippletide, she could stand alone outside without being asked, 'how much' every five minutes.</p>
<p>It took Tressa longer than Primrose had expected to come running to the inn at full speed. <em>Well passed her bedtime I'm sure, </em>she thought as the girl keeled over panting in front of her. The young woman gave the merchant time to catch her breath. Primrose knew Tressa wanted to get the first word in.</p>
<p>“What's the plan, partner!?”</p>
<p>Primrose calculated just how guilty she would feel if she ditched Olberic under cover of nightfall. She took the time to consider all kinds of variables but groaned when she realized it didn't add up. “Tressa, you're undeniably formidable and sharp.”</p>
<p>“Darn right I am!”</p>
<p>“None of that matters though.” Primrose spoke with a quiet calm to signal Tressa to take it down a notch. She was hoping Olberic was getting some sleep inside and didn't want to wake him – more so, the excitement of the merchant made the situation seem more intolerable. “My journey is one of bloodshed. There will be dead bodies behind me as I go.”</p>
<p>“Maybe you don't have to kill any-”</p>
<p>“I want to,” Primrose cut the girl off sternly. “There are men that need to die, and if all goes according to plan, I'll be the one washing my hands in their blood.”</p>
<p>Tressa's eyes widened with awe. “That's pretty intense.” Primrose wanted to pump her fist in celebration. She had phrased that so morbidly to discourage the girl and it sounded like it had worked</p>
<p>Of course, it hadn't.</p>
<p>Tressa responded confidently, “We'll see how things really go down. I think you're nicer than you believe you are, Primrose.”</p>
<p>The girl was undeniably incorrect, but Primrose appreciated the naive remark and was beginning to warm to the girl. Tressa's innocent confidence wasn't unlike a cat and the dancer had always been a cat person. Bonus: this cat had a spear and knew how to use it.</p>
<p>“Very well,” Primrose said sweetly. “Get some rest. We set out North in the morning.” Before the girl could run home, the older woman wanted to say something chummy. Unfortunately, years in her profession left her with only crude lines of thinking. “So, that book. You must have been quite enthralled. It must be very....Captivating,” she finished with a wink.</p>
<p>Tressa didn't get it.</p>
<p>“Good gods,” Primrose muttered before patting the girl's hat. “Sleep well, Tressa.”</p>
<hr/>
<p>Unsurprisingly, Primrose found their room's candle still lit along with an upright Olberic enjoying nothingness. She took special note that the window was open before gently falling into bed.</p>
<p>Olberic spoke before she could or wanted to. “We can take solace that the journey will be good for her. Difficult adventures craft boys into men and girls into women.” He said this with such poetic purpose that Primrose had a feeling he had been rehearsing the one line for the past hour.</p>
<p>“Who knows. Maybe it will be good for us too.” Primrose considered the levelheaded - <em>boring, </em>she corrected herself – Olberic who was as sweet a man as any, but maybe what she needed was someone irresponsibly curious to grant her the chance to come out of the shell she had forged over the years.</p>
<p>Although, she would never admit it.</p>
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